


Mountain Sound Novellas and Short Stories

by ArtisticAuthor



Series: Warriors; Mountain Sound [1]
Category: Warrior Cats - Fandom
Genre: As stated before these cats are lovable idiots, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Some More So Than Others, Some characters may be dead, Warning;, by the time the actual fic starts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-10-21 02:56:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtisticAuthor/pseuds/ArtisticAuthor
Summary: Currently in the process of being rewritten due to my old laptop dying and me losing all of the files, including the timeline used to make these novellas/short stories. No date is set right now, but I'm doing my best between this and writing another fic. Thank you all for waiting and I'm sorry for the inconvenience!





	1. Shallowsight's Grief

Shallowsight cautiously padded over to the fence, pausing to sniff it for a moment. RiverClan, like many of the Clans, had suffered great losses over the past season. And like the other Clans, the cats of RiverClan had been trying to distract themselves from the grief by working harder than ever.

WindClan had announced that they had lost their deputy and three other warriors in the last Gathering. ShadowClan had been plunged into chaos after Mudstar's death, which occurred directly after Kestreltalon, his deputy, had retired to the elder's den. He hadn't named a new deputy at the time he had died and ShadowClan was still without leadership as the medicine cat awaited a sign from StarClan of who should be their new leader. SkyClan, too had lost one of their warriors; Mossstreak.

Shallowsight had never spoken to Mossstreak, but he had heard stories about her from many other cats. The senior warrior was highly respected in SkyClan and her death had hit them hard. Thrushgrowl, her former apprentice and one of Shallowsight's good friends, had decided to stay behind during the Gathering in his grief.

Shallowsight had been trying to find a way to distract himself from his own loss. His sister, Duskswim, had recently joined StarClan as well after a wound had gotten infected. Sunnypatch, and her mentor, Beechrattle, had tried everything they could to treat the infection, but it had refused to respond to the herbs. Ever since, Sunnypatch had been working harder than ever; constantly counting the herbs and reorganizing them, insisting on gathering everything herself even if it would take several trips in and out of camp...Shallowsight wondered if she was trying to distract herself from the grief or from guilt of being unable to save her own sister.

Shallowsight himself had been doing something similar. He'd been joining every patrol he could to get out of camp and out of the den. He hated seeing the empty spot where her nest used to be so much that he had taken to sleeping outside just to avoid looking at it. It had been nearly half a moon and the pain of losing Duskswim was still very fresh in his mind. They hadn't even been warriors for very long; almost two seasons.

So, he had come here to visit his friend, Snake. She had always given him something else to think about, someone to talk to when he needed it when the rest of the Clan was too busy. Snake had given him some good advice as well, in how to hunt and survive in the twolegplace if he ever needed to.

Snake was a huge, fluffy gray she-cat with a single yellow eye. Her ears were ripped about the edges; trophies from the time she lived as a rogue. Shallowsight had once thought her to be an older cat, but he knew now that wasn't the case. She was only a couple seasons older than him, though she had seen and done far more than Shallowsight could ever hope to see or do. Some tolegs had taken her in, but she was not the soft kittypet that the warriors sometimes told stories of.

Even now that the war was over, it was rare that kittypets sought out the Clans. The old stories of how they ate the bones of other cats who dared trespass in their territories were still spread around by kittypets and even some loners and rogues who happened to hear them from the kittypets. The war had never helped with those rumors. Shallowsight only knew of a small pawful of kittypets who had recently joined the Clans, and all of them had gone to StarClan already.

Kittypets were usually fat, lazy creatures who hunted just for fun but preferred to lay around in their twoleg nests or yards without a care in the world. Of course, they didn't really _have_ a care in the world, considering how their twolegs gave them everything and anything whenever they asked for it. Many kittypets who had joined the Clans did it because they were bored. Some had even left when they realized how much work it would be.

Snake wasn't like that. The first time they had met, Shallowsight had offered to get some catmint for Sunnyflake while she and Beechrattle had been busy with a sudden outbreak of greencough. Shallowsight had been more than happy to help. Some kittypets grumbled or loudly complained about the Clan cats taking their herbs, but would flee if a Clan cat got too close. Many understood why when it was explained to them and were fine with it, though even still they usually kept their distance or inside their dens until the Clan cat was gone.

Snake had been one of the new cats in the neighborhood at the time. When she had caught Shallowsight in her garden she swiftly chased him out after ripping out a few good clawfulls of his fur. He had raced all the way back to the lake and dove right in, hoping that if she still followed him beyond her fence that she wouldn't follow him into the lake.

It took an embarrassingly long amount of time before Shallowsight realized she wasn't following him and he headed back to camp empty pawed and shaken up by the encounter in more ways than just one. The odd kittypet terrified and fascinated him all at the same time. She acted nothing like the stories of other kittypets he had heard and she was absolutely _massive_, bigger than any cat in the Clans. The only cats he could think of who matched her in size were Darkstar and Silverfox of ThunderClan, who stood a whole head taller than most warriors.

It was ridiculous, he knew, but he kept going back. Each time it ended the same way; with her chasing him off and threatening to choke him with his own tail. And each time he would wait a while before returning. At some point she had stopped chasing him and had taken to just sitting up on the fence and growling at him. That was enough to chase him off for a while, but he soon found himself growing bolder and bolder.

Eventually, the two became good friends. Shallowsight had taken to sitting on the other side of the fence and asking her to let him in instead of trespassing in her garden. She was fine with helping after she knew what the catmint was for and why he was always so insistent on coming back for it, but after a while she told him that he was always welcome in her garden and that he didn't need to ask to come in. She had even taken him into the twoleg nest on one occasion and let him look around.

She had confided in him recently that while her life as a kittypet was far nicer than living alone out in the twolegplace, she missed the freedom of the wild. Her twolegs didn't like it when she went too far from the garden, preferring to keep her inside most of the time. She had told him that there were many cats like her that were very happy as kittypets, who preferred it and would never return to their lives as wild cats if they were given the choice, but she had always missed the freedom of the wild. She missed hunting for her own food and sleeping outside under a bush in a nest of moss and leaves.

She had told him of life in the twolegplace as well. It was far rougher than any forest life. Monsters patrolled the thunderpaths constantly, scaring away any prey with their loud roars. Twolegs didn't help much, either. Always busily wandering around and making hunting difficult even in places monsters couldn't go. There were other dangers, too. Plenty of places to hide, but these hiding places were also frequented by dogs, foxes and other cats who could jump out and kill a cat before they even knew what was going on. Even twolegs could be dangerous, sometimes intentionally, sometimes by complete accident.

“_Most cats never make it to eight seasons_,” Snake had said. “_Somethin' always gets 'em. Whether it's illness, starvation or somethin' else._”

“_Why don't they move, then?_” Shallowsight had asked her. “_Wouldn't it be better to go someplace easier to live?_”

“_Do you Clan cats move every time the cold settles in or when the prey gets scarce?_” Snake huffed. “_Do you run home squealin' to your ma when you find foxes have invaded your territory? The twolegplace is rough, but it's home to these cats. Besides, where they gonna go? The closest place is the lake and y'all've settled there. A lot of the cats here are still wary of you lake folks or simply don't wanna live in a big group, or be bound by some code or borders. They like goin' where they want and doin' as they please. They don't wanna risk facin' the unknown out yonder when they already got a home, even if it's not the best._”

Snake had given Shallowsight a new look on the outsiders in his own Clan. He had started showing more interest in their lives before they joined the Clan and them as a whole. Perchjump had become one of his closest friends during that time, and he was more than happy to listen to the stories Perchjump would tell him about his time living at the barn, stories he likely would have never heard had he never met Snake.

He had offered her a place in the Clan as he told her about the way Clan cats lived, about the code and their history. Snake was intrigued and mentioned it sounded better than kittypet life, but she was still wary about giving it a try. She, like many of the cats in twoleg place, had heard the stories of the war. She knew from Shallowsight that the Clans were better, that they had moved past it and made changes to the code to ensure another war like that would never happen again, but even still the worry of living in the wild again and the stories stopped her from joining right away.

“You've been coming here an awful lot lately, Shallow.” The fence trembled as Snake leaped up to the top and sat down, her fluffy tail hanging off the side. Most cats thought her fur was the only soft thing about her, but Shallowsight knew better.

“I like talking to you,” Shallowsight replied. “You always know what to say and when to say it.”

“Your sister in need of any catmint?” Snake asked.

“No, I just needed to get out of camp,” Shallowsight said.

“You always need to get out of camp these days,” Snake snorted and leaped down into the soft grass lining the edges of the fence, growing taller than most of the other grass nearby. “It's about Duskswim again, ain't it? Grief isn't somethin' you can just run from, Shallow. You gotta let it pass. It'll only hurt worse if you try to run or fight it.”

“I know,” Shallowsight murmured. “I just need something to distract me from the worst of the pain is all.”

Snake was quiet for a moment before she got to her paws. “Well, I've shown you around my home enough times. Why not take me back to RiverClan?”

“Are you sure?” Shallowsight's eyes grew wide. “Usually only cats come into the camp if they plan on joining, or are visiting from another Clan.”

“Well, maybe that's what I intend on doing,” Snake purred, waving her tail. “I already told you, Shallow; I'm not happy with life as a kittypet. It's better than rogue life, but there's somethin' missin' in it for me. I'm willin' to give Clan life a try.”

Shallowsight happily led her back to camp, pointing out the best places to sunbathe or fish along the way back, telling her some stories from when he and his sisters were still just apprentices. He hesitated as he reached the stone bridge back to camp.

Outsiders were more than welcome in the Clan, even if they were just visiting, but now he felt ashamed that he had never told anyone about his friend. He'd kept quiet about it and no one had ever really asked him where he was always running off to after finishing his duties for the day. It wasn't uncommon for cats to visit friends in other Clans if they had the time to spare after finishing their patrols.

Shallowsight gave his pelt a shake and waded across through the shallows as Snake followed him by hopping from stone to stone. The river was quiet and calm that day, the reeds swaying in the breeze. They trembled as the cats padded through them into the well hidden camp, sunlight filtering through the branches of the willow tree that clung to the edges of the shore. It was past sunhigh. Most of the patrols had been done for the day aside from maybe another hunting patrol to bring back some fresh prey for the evening.

He could see Briarstem laying outside the clump of brambles that hid the nursery, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the warm patch of sunlight that always appeared just outside it at that time. Perchjump was near the warrior's den, trying to help Grassstripe fix a leak in the roof.

Grassstripe's mate, Cloudleaf, was talking to their kits, Lightpaw and Shadepaw on the other side of the clearing. It was probably about their warrior assessments that they were due to take any day. It was all those two had been talking about since their mentors said they were ready.

“There you are.” Seedstar padded over to them, his glossy black pelt shimmering in the light as he padded through the clearing. He had just come out of his den, hidden away in a thicket growing between the trees growing close together near the drier part of camp. The elders' den was located there as well, though it was empty as there hadn't been an elder in RiverClan since Tansyflight, Seedstar's mother, had joined StarClan.

“Hello, Seedstar.” Shallowsight dipped his head respectfully to his father.

“You missed Lightreed and Shadewater's warrior ceremonies,” Seedstar said. “You should...who's this?” Seedstar paused, his ears flicking back warily as he eyed the massive she-cat beside his son.

“I'm Snake,” Snake replied. “The soon to be mother of Shallowsight's kits.”

Shallowsight fainted right then and there.

When Shallowsight came to, he found himself in the medicine den. He must have been carried there by one of his Clanmates after he had fainted. Had it been a dream? No, it couldn't have been. He hadn't been to the medicine den since Duskswim had fallen ill from the infection.

Shallowsight yelped and scrambled up as Sunnyflake suddenly appeared beside him and started smacking him with a paw. “Why didn't you tell me about her!?”

“Isn't there a code or something that says you can't hit a patient?” Shallowsight ducked out of the way of another swipe and scrambled back out of his sister's reach.

“I can if they're my annoying brother who didn't even tell me he had a mate!” Sunnyflake hissed, flicking her tail, her tortoiseshell pelt bristling. “You should have told me!”

“Sorry.” Shallowsight lowered his head in shame. “I know. You've just been so busy lately, I haven't had the chance.”

Sunnyflake's anger seemed to melt away. “Right. You should go visit your mate. Seedstar has welcomed her into the Clan and she's moved into the nursery already. It's a good thing she got here when she did. She's very close to having your kits.”

He was going to be a father! Nodding again, throat too tight with emotion to speak, Shallowsight slowly made his way out of the medicine den. The sun was already setting on the horizon, stars beginning to appear in the sky. How long had he been out?

He hesitated as he looked to the nursery. He wasn't a very young warrior, but he hadn't even been a warrior for more than eight seasons. Was he ready to be a father? He was still grieving over the loss of his sister. A lot of kits usually didn't make it past their first moon. He didn't know if he could stand the grief of losing his kits as well.

He turned to pace beside the shore, tail flicking nervously back and forth. The rest of the Clan didn't seem to have noticed him or were giving him space. His black pelt did blend in with the shadows the willow tree cast over the small area between the medicine den and nursery. Of course the Clan would be avoiding him as well. He had taken a mate outside the Clan without telling anyone, even his own father, the _leader._

He paused as something slowly made its way over, brought over by a wave pushed along by a small breeze. It bumped against the shore, floating a mouse-length back before stopping to float nearby. It was a nest, one of RiverClan's.

RiverClan pushed the nests of their fallen Clanmates out into the lake after their death. The Clan usually stayed and watched until the nest eventually sank or moved on out of sight. Sometimes, family would stay longer. It was considered an omen that a Rivercat's spirit was visiting or perhaps even been reborn if the nest washed up on the shore again, whether in RiverClan or another Clan.

Was it Froglight's? The old tom had been Sedgebriar's mate. The newest warriors, Lightreed and Shadewater, were their grandkits. Was the spirit visiting RiverClan to congratulate his kin on becoming warriors? He should probably tell Briarstem, Cloudleaf, Lightreed and Shadewater to come look at the nest if so.

Shallowsight bent down to sniff the nest. RiverClan was the only Clan who did the nest ceremony, but maybe another camp had flooded. He needed to be sure before telling anyone anything and getting their hopes up. The nest was indeed a RiverClan cat's judging from the faint scent still clinging to it, but it wasn't Froglight's.

_Duskswim_? Shallowsight raised his head, his eyes wide. This had been his sister's nest. Was she there with him by the shore? He couldn't see or smell her, but it was rare that StarClan appeared to the living in the waking world. They usually waited until the cat was asleep to visit. And even then their visits were rare.

He looked to the nursery where his mate was staying. Had she come to wish them well? Or was her spirit choosing to move on and become one of their new kits? Shallowsight fluffed out his pelt and held his head high. It didn't matter what he had lost. His mate and their kits needed him. He had to move on, had to stay strong for them. He couldn't keep running away anymore.

Shallowsight turned and headed straight to the nursery, a purr rumbling deep in his throat. He could have sworn he smelled his sister's scent as he entered the den. He would need to tell Sunnyflake about the nest later, but by then it would have sunk beneath the waves or been carried back out to the lake, far out of their sight.


	2. Lizardhop's Arrival

Nightblizzard padded through the snowy forest, her paws sinking down up to her knees in the deep snow. It had been a while since the lake had seen such a storm, especially so late into the season. ShadowClan was fine, the pines did a lot to help protect the camp with their full branches of needles. 

ThunderClan, however, wasn't so lucky. Their camp was mostly exposed, only the edges of the stone hollow really being protected by trees. Normally, the Clans left each other to handle themselves after such weather—they could take care of themselves, after all—but Nightblizzard was worried about her old friend, Silverfox. The poor tom found it very difficult to hunt in the weather. While his large size meant he could get through the snow a bit easier, it always clumped up in his fur and weighed him down.

She was also concerned with how thin the old tom had seemed the last Gathering. The leaf-bare had been hard on everyone. The snow seemed to come down seemingly non stop upon all the Clans, preventing them from being able to hunt well. Even RiverClan was having trouble; the lake had frozen over nearly the entire season and they had been forced to hunt on land beyond their borders.

In ShadowClan, the losses had been great. Mottlebee, Lynxscruff and Sleepyotter had joined StarClan due to greencough. Fiercepaw, Nightblizzard's apprentice, had been trying to hide the grief of losing both his parents so quickly. He couldn't hide it from everyone, though. Nightblizzard had noticed he had been struggling lately in training. His already bad attitude had worsened further and he was snapping more frequently at his Clanmates. 

Nightblizzard was a patient cat. She understood Fiercepaw was grieving, even if he wasn't willing to show or admit it. He would need some time to recover from what had happened. She had decided to give him the day off and some space, although she was reluctant to do so. Mousestar was a bad influence on the young tom. He had taken notice that Mottlebee was usually out of camp on patrol and had swooped in and was trying to mold Fiercepaw into a warrior completely loyal to him, the perfect little fighter who would do whatever Mousestar told him to without question.

Mousestar may have been her father, but Nightblizzard had a strained relationship with him. He was far too aggressive for her liking. Anytime something happened, whether they found a bit of half eaten prey or smelled something off around the borders, he was always quick to accuse the other Clans of being behind it. It was a habit that was beginning to rub off on Nightblizzard's apprentice. Her constant bickering with her father was likely why he continued to refuse to make her deputy, even though the entire Clan agreed she was the best choice.

He had chosen Smallhawk instead, who was already one paw in the elders' den. She respected her father's choice, though. Smallhawk was a much calmer cat, far more thoughtful and less willing to listen to one of Mousestar's ridiculous accusations without any proper evidence. It wouldn't be long before he retired, however. She dreaded what may happen if Mousestar succeeded in making Fiercepaw completely loyal, what may happen if he made Fiercepaw his deputy later down the line.

Shaking off some snow that had dropped down onto her from the bare trees, Nightblizzard pushed those thoughts away. She was here to check on her friend, not worry about events that may not even occur until far into the future. Fiercepaw hadn't been an apprentice for too long, not even a full season. With his attitude, it would be a long time before he was made a warrior, even longer before he could be given an apprentice. In ShadowClan, it was tradition for a warrior to wait at least a season before they could mentor a cat unless there was no one else available.

She tested every paw step as she traveled. While she visited often enough to know her way around and to the camp, she didn't know every bush or dip in the territory like the Thundercats. She wasn't willing to risk stepping on a thorn so far from home.

She also wasn't a fan of how exposed she felt. She didn't think she could ever get used to how bare the trees were in ThunderClan during leaf-bare. She was far too used to the evergreens that kept ShadowClan covered in shadows during all four seasons, protecting the cats from the weather and the eyes of flying predators such as owls or hawks.

Nightblizzard paused to scent the air. Through the thick cover of snow, it was difficult to make out any traces of scent unless it was very fresh, be it from prey, a cat or something else. Strangely enough, however, she was picking up the scent of another cat. Not a ThunderClan cat, either. They didn't carry the same scent of the forest or forest prey that ThunderClan cats did. Even stranger, Nightblizzard could smell milk.

It wasn't uncommon for queens to seek out the Clans, looking for a safe place to have and raise their kits. Nor was it uncommon for the Clans to find abandoned kits and take them in after they were abandoned or orphaned. Nightblizzard's first apprentice, Squirrelmist, had been one such kit.

Having kits on their own in such weather, even so late into the season, was dangerous. Concerned for the safety of the soon to be or new mother, Nightblizzard began to follow the queen's trail. If she was looking for ThunderClan, she may miss the camp entirely or end up injured. While most of the plants had been killed off, many thorns still remained hidden in the snow. The last thing the poor queen needed was to be injured by a thorn bush.

She paused as the trail stopped near the the ThunderClan camp. The queen must have doubled back over her own tail and just missed the ShadowClan warrior. She certainly hadn't made it in camp. Nightblizzard knew for a fact that ThunderClan wouldn't turn away a lost queen, so she must have changed her mind and decided to take her chances elsewhere.

Nightblizzard let out a sigh. She still was concerned for the rogue, but there was little she could do. She didn't wish to risk scaring her by hunting her down and this really wasn't any of her business. The most she could do was notify ThunderClan of their guest and hope the queen found a safe, warm spot to raise her kits.

A tiny mew split through the air, freezing Nightblizzard in her tracks. Hoping a ThunderClan kit hadn't snuck their way out of the nursery and of camp, she began to frantically search around for the source of the noise. The kit sounded young, too young to be out of camp on their own in such weather.

She was just about to give up when a tiny kit crawled its way out from under the tangle of brambles lining the edges of ThunderClan's camp. His dark brown pelt, darker around his striped face, tail and legs, had kept him hidden well among the shadows of the brambles. Nightblizzard rushed over to pick the kit up and hold him close, trying to keep him out of the cold snow.

This was no Clan kit. His scent didn't match that of ThunderClan's and he was far too young to have made it across the lake from any of the others. He must have been the son of the queen that had passed by. Judging from his size, he must have been the runt of his litter.

It wasn't uncommon for rogues to abandon the runts if they found they were having trouble caring for all of their kits at once. The runt was usually the smallest, the weakest. The one with the lowest chance of survival. If a rogue felt she had to sacrifice one of her kits for the others to survive, she would always choose the runt first.

At least this queen had given her kit a chance by leaving him by the ThunderClan camp. Unfortunately, she had chosen the worst time to do so. All of ThunderClan's patrols were finished for the day, aside from maybe another hunting patrol later on. By then, however, the kit would have likely frozen to death.

Nightblizzard tried to groom the kit to warm him up, but the kit let out a loud scream, startling her into nearly dropping him. At first, she thought he might be injured, but upon further inspection she found he was just pitching a fit over being groomed. This one would certainly be a pawful.

Ignoring the wails of protest from the tiny kit, Nightblizzard picked him up and carried him into the ThunderClan camp. The sight of a highly respected senior warrior of ShadowClan carrying a screaming kit into the camp caught the attention of all the warriors in the camp.

Silverfox spotted her from across the camp where he had been talking to his brother, Darkstar. Tail held high and eyes bright with joy, he bounded over to Nightblizzard. He skidded to a stop, eyes growing wide as he spotted the kit. He stared at the kit for a long moment before glancing up at her and back to the kit.

“Who's this?” he asked. “Is...is he yours?”

“He's a rogue, you dumb furball,” Nightblizzard replied. “His mother left him outside your camp. He's lucky I found him. He would have frozen to death if I hadn't.”

“What!?” Silverfox's eyes grew wider, the fur along his spine bristling.

“He looks like he was the runt,” Nightblizzard continued. “She probably couldn't care for him and his siblings so she left him here.”

“It's still odd, though,” Silverfox forced his fur to lie flat. He bent down to sniff the kit. “He looks like he's about a moon old. Surely she would have made sure we found him?” He let out a purr as the kit reached out, batting at him with a tiny paw. “He may be small, but he's certainly not weak.”

“I can't explain the actions of a rogue queen,” Nightblizzard said with a flick of her tail. “Are there any queens in ThunderClan willing to look after him?”

“Wasprain had a litter just yesterday,” Silverfox replied. “I'm sure she'll be happy to look after him.”

He led Nightblizzard into the nursery. Wasprain was curled up in a nest around her three kits. She opened an eye as she heard Silverfox come in. She jolted awake, eyes growing wide as she spotted Nightblizzard and the rogue kit.

“Nightblizzard?” Wasprain asked. “Why are you...? Silverfox, you sly old fox, is she joining me in here?”

“No!” Silverfox let out an indignant hiss, his ears flicking back and tail lashing.

“I came here for a visit to see how ThunderClan was doing after the storm.” Nightblizzard stepped forward to explain herself, saving Silverfox from any further torment from the queen. “I came across the trail of a rogue queen and followed it to your camp. I wasn't able to find the queen, but it seems she left one of her kits behind for you.”

“Oh, the poor thing,” Wasprain murmured, her eyes dulling with pity. “I'm not sure I can care for him, though. I've got my paws full with my three kits. Maybe another cat in the Clan will be willing to care for him. I can watch him long enough for you to find someone.”

“Thank you, Wasprain.” Nightblizzard sat the kit down. She expected him to go straight to the queen, to the warm nest, but instead he just took a look around and then walked straight over to Silverfox. Silverfox let out an amused purr and tried to nudge the kit over to the queen, but the kit just mewed and buried his face in the deputy's thick pelt. When Nightblizzard tried to pull the kit away, he began to wail and she was forced to let go. He promptly curled up next to the deputy. Silverfox, looking very confused and helpless, turned to Nightblizzard for some help. She just got up and walked away.

“Where are you going?” Silverfox called after her.

“To tell your brother you're a father,” she called back.


	3. Swallowpaw's Mistake Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swallowpaw and Lizardpaw were best friends as kits, practically inseparable. However, have Lizardpaw was made an apprentice, they began to drift apart. Blinded by jealousy, Swallowpaw makes a deal with a strange cat that threatens to tear apart his entire life, with him being none the wiser.

Swallowkit sat beside his brother, Pouncekit, as they watched the newly apprenticed Lizardpaw leave camp with his mentor, Silverfox. Swallowkit's black and white pelt rippled with jealousy, his tail flicking back and forth. He was hoping that Silverfox would be  _ his _ mentor, not Lizardpaw's. With Lizardpaw only being a moon older than him, that would never happen.

He wished he could have at least been made an apprentice alongside his closest friend. They had done everything together as kits. Now it would be another moon before they could be apprentices together. He didn't get it. He and Pouncekit were the same size as Lizardpaw. They should have been made apprentices with him.

“Darkstar is wise, but sometimes I wonder if he's grown mouse-brained in his old age,” Breezehush, Swallowkit and Pouncekit's father, grunted.

“You shouldn't speak that way about our leader,” Wasprain replied, a warning tone in her voice. “He has his reasons.”

“I'm just saying kin shouldn't mentor kin,” Breezehush defended himself. “It's bad enough that Silverfox had to take in a rogue kit that Nightblizzard found in the dead of leaf-bare. We were lucky that our kits were the only ones in the nursery at the time.”

Swallowkit's fur prickled in discomfort. He had only been a newborn at the time Lizardpaw joined the Clan, during the final snowfall of leaf-bare. He didn't remember any of it. According to the others, it had been a bitter leaf-bare. They had lost Eagleroll, one of the warriors, and later Honeykit, Swallowkit's sister, during the harsh season. Luckily, that had been all the losses they suffered, but prey had remained scarce for a good portion of newleaf because of the late snowfall.

“Don't forget that you were an outsider as well,” Wasprain pointed out. “Many of the Clans are former rogues, loners and even kittypets these days. The Clans learned long ago during the war that closing our borders to outsiders only weakens us.”

“That's not what I meant,” Breezehush sputtered, flicking his tail. “Taking in a rogue kit in such a harsh leaf-bare could have been dangerous. Had there been other kits in the nursery, they would have starved.”

“To ignore an abandoned kit in the snow would be condemning them to death,” Wasprain hissed, shooting a cold glare to her mate. “Not only would that be breaking the code, but it would be terribly cruel. We never turn a blind eye to any kit, even one who is already dying.”

Breezehush wisely shut his jaws and said nothing more on the topic.

“Do you think Lizardpaw will teach us hunting or battle moves when he gets back?” Pouncekit asked, giving his brother a nudge.

“I'm sure he will,” Swallowkit said, a soft purr in his voice. Swallowkit had always admired Lizardpaw more than Pouncekit, but his brother liked to join in their games since they were the only three kits in the nursery. 

Silverfox had done his best to raise Lizardpaw on his own as a king in the nursery, but his duties as deputy often pulled him away. Wasprain had been more than happy to keep an eye on Lizardpaw while Silverfox was busy. It gave her a distraction from the grief of losing Honeykit.

“Apprentices don't learn battle moves on their first day,” Wasprain said, eyes glowing with pride as she turned her attention to her sons. “But I'm sure Hazelpaw will show you some if you ask him.”

“I'm good,” Pouncekit squeaked. Hazelpaw had joined the Clan shortly after Lizardpaw did. He had joined as a kit, but as a full three moons older than Lizardpaw, he had been apprenticed much sooner than the other kits. For the past few days, Pouncekit had been following Hazelpaw around like a lost duckling, but anytime anyone mentioned it Pouncekit would always scamper right back to the nursery.

“Come on, let's go play mossball until Lizardpaw gets back.” Swallowkit turned and headed back into the nursery to find a good ball of moss to play with as his brother followed him.

Hours later, as soon as Swallowkit spotted Lizardpaw returning through the thorn barrier behind his adopted father, Swallowkit dropped the mossball and raced over to him. His tail was held high, eyes bright in excitement to hear about his friend's first day out of camp. None of them had ever gotten to leave camp before. They were allowed to under the watchful eye of a warrior, but because of the harsh leaf-bare the warriors had refused to let the kits out, worried that predators may have been forced into their territory by hunger.

“Hi, Swallowkit,” Lizardpaw greeted, his voice muffled by the ball of moss in his jaws.

“Do you want to come play mossball with us and tell us about the territory?” Swallowkit asked. Lizardhop blinked and shook his head, looking disappointed.

“Sorry, I can't,” he replied. “I have to help to clean out the medicine den today. Maybe tomorrow, if I have the time.”

Swallowkit's tail dropped. Of course Lizardpaw would be busy. It was his first day as an apprentice, after all. He had so much to learn, so much to do. Swallowkit just forced out a purr and wished his friend luck with the den cleaning, glad he at least didn't have to do that yet, before he headed back to go play with his brother. Maybe Lizardpaw would have some free time in a day or two.

Day after day, the same thing would happen again and again; Swallowkit would run over to Lizardpaw, hoping that maybe they could play again that day or Lizardpaw could teach him something, but every time Lizardpaw just gave him an excuse as to why he couldn't; he was too tired, he had to help the warriors with fixing up the dens or help the medicine cat pick herbs, he had to go to bed early because he was on dawn patrol the next morning...

After half a moon of trying, Swallowkit finally gave up. He lay outside the nursery, watching his former denmate resentfully every time he left camp with Silverfox. At least he still had Pouncekit to play with. At least, whenever Pouncekit wasn't being Hazelpaw's shadow.

One evening, while the rest of the Clan was sharing tongues and preparing for bed after a long day, Swallowkit was laying in the nursery alone. Pouncekit was outside, sharing a squirrel with their parents. Swallowkit had already eaten earlier, so he had opted out of the family meal.

“They don’t care about you anymore, you know.” A voice made Swallowkit jump and whip around, his hackles rising in alarm. A pale brown tom with a ripped ear was sitting next to him, staring out through the entrance to the nursery. Swallowkit opened his jaws to yowl a warning, unsure of how the tom had gotten in and not recognizing the tom as a clanmate, but the tom slapped his tail over his mouth, shutting him up.

“Don’t,” the tom hissed. “I’m dead. They can’t see me. You’re the only one who can.”

Swallowkit’s throat felt tight as he spat the tail out and asked, “Am...Am I dying?”

“No,” the tom snorted. “You might as well be dead, though, with how your Clan keeps overlooking you.”

“They’re just busy.” Swallowkit’s ears flattened.

“Really?” The tom raised a brow. “Because Hazelpaw doesn’t look too busy to spend time with Pouncekit. Your parents have plenty of time to spend with each other and your brother. Your Clanmates have plenty of time to praise Lizardpaw.”

Swallowkit dug his claws into the moss. “Lizardpaw deserves the praise.”

“And so will you, but you will get none.” The tom’s tone was calm, as though he were just chatting about the weather or deciding what to eat. Swallowkit avoided his gaze, his tail flicking slowly back and forth.

The dead tom unsheathed his claws, examining them as he continued, “You were always second best, Swallowkit. The second born kit in your litter, the second one to open his eyes, the second to eat prey for the first time. Even with Lizardpaw you were always second best. His little sidekick. When the time comes for Darkstar to finally die or Silverfox to die or retire, you’ll be second best there, too. Lizardpaw will be the obvious choice. You’ll just be the backup if something happens to him, if you’re even considered at all.”

Swallowkit’s fur bristled. “That’s not true! I’ll be a better warrior than Lizardpaw could ever hope to be!”

“No, you won’t,” the tom snorted, his whiskers twitching. “Not on your own. But I can help you. When you fall asleep, I’ll teach you how to fight better than any other cat in the Clan. I’ll make you the best warrior the Clans have ever seen.”

“Even better than Darkstar?” Swallowkit breathed. The pale tom let out a low chuckle.

“ _ Darkstar himself _ will bow to you when we’re done.” He reached out a paw. “What do you say, kit? You want this Clan to remember your name?”

Swallowkit didn't even hesitate before taking the tom's paw.


	4. Swallowpaw's Mistake Chapter 2

Swallowpaw let out a sharp gasp as Lizardpaw kicked him off, sending him skidding across the soft ground of the mossy clearing. He scrambled to his paws, shaking a bit of moss off his pelt, tail lashing as he crouched down. A low growl escaped his throat, his claws digging into the moss.

“That’s enough!” Tigerroar’s yowl rang out. “Swallowpaw, what part of  _ claws sheathed _ is so difficult for you to understand!?”

Tigerroar stalked over and battered Swallowpaw’s ear with a paw, his own claws remaining sheathed as he berated his apprentice for what felt like the hundredth time the past few sunrises. Swallowpaw shrank back, biting back a hiss. Hareheart had always told him to train with claws unsheathed.

“It'll teach you to avoid blows better,” he always said.

So what if Lizardhop had a new scratch on his muzzle? It probably wasn't even bad enough to leave a scar. Even if it did, it didn't matter. Warriors got scars all the time. They wore them proudly. Swallowpaw himself had a few scars on his pelt and he always seemed to wake up with a new tear in his ear courtesy of Hareheart.

Swallowpaw was happy for the excuse to claw his denmate. The Clan had given Lizardpaw nothing but special treatment ever since he joined the Clan. All because Silverfox was his dad. The Clan didn't even realize how soft Lizardpaw was. Swallowpaw himself was blind to it until Hareheart showed him the truth. Now, Swallowpaw was the only living cat in the Clan who seemed to notice the smaller apprentice's weakness.

Pouncepaw and his mentor, Snowbranch, watched the fight from the sidelines. Hazelpaw and his mentor, Gorseleaf, were there with them. Pouncepaw seemed uneasy, eyes darting from Swallowpaw to Lizardpaw as his tail flicked back and forth. Ever since he was made an apprentice he had been trying to get closer to Hazelpaw. Hazelpaw didn't seem very interested yet, but they had been getting closer.

Thankfully, Pouncepaw still remained by his brother's side, no matter what. Swallowpaw still wasn't sure he could tell his brother the truth. He had just told his brother that he was just having nightmares. Pouncepaw didn't seem to believe him, but he still covered for him whenever anyone asked why Swallowpaw seemed to have some new injury every morning. A part of him wanted to tell Pouncepaw, but Hareheart had told him to keep his jaws shut, that cats would get jealous or try to stop them if they knew the truth.

“I got carried away,” Swallowpaw hissed through gritted teeth. “It's no big deal.”

“It is a big deal because this was just a training session and Lizardpaw is your Clanmate,” Tigerroar shot back.

“I don't see why you're so defensive of him,” Swallowpaw spat with a wave of his tail. “Isn't the whole reason you and Songfall split up because she wanted to adopt Lizardpaw before Silverfox announced he would and you didn't want your mate to care for some half dead rogue kit whose own mother didn't want him?”

“ _ Enough _ !” Tigerroar lashed out, striking Swallowpaw in the nose so hard that his eyes stung from the pain. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but until you fix your attitude you will be on nest duty until further notice.”

Swallowpaw dug his claws into the ground, wanting to claw his mentor's nose off. Instead, he just let out a wordless hiss and shoved past him, glaring coldly at Lizardpaw as he padded by.

“You’re a coward,” Swallowpaw growled. “You let your Clanmates fight your battles for you instead of defending yourself.”

“I shouldn’t have to defend myself against my own Clanmate,” Lizardpaw replied coolly.

Swallowpaw curled his lips back and shoved his way through the bushes. He stormed through the forest until he stopped, letting out a roar of frustration and raking his claws across the trunk of a tree. He would have preferred it to be Lizardpaw's throat instead of bark. Maybe in the next battle they fought their enemy would take care of the other apprentice for him. Then the Clan would see how weak their precious apprentice was.

“They’re fools to put so much faith into a cat like Lizardpaw.” Hareheart appeared beside him as he traveled back to the camp. “He’ll never learn to be a proper warrior at this rate.”

Swallowpaw let out a soft noise of agreement, his tail lashing. “They’ll learn,” he said, curling his lips back.

“Got into another fight?” Smallhorizon approached, a wad of cobwebs hanging from his jaws. He must have been out gathering some. There were a few other herbs he was carrying, but Swallowpaw couldn't tell what kind they were.

“Lizardpaw's got a few scratches, but I'm fine,” Swallowpaw replied, trying to calm his temper. The poor old medicine cat wasn't to blame for any of this. There was no reason for Swallowpaw to take his anger out on the frail tom.

“Your doing, I suppose?” Smallhorizon raised a brow, letting out a sigh. “You shouldn't take pride in harming your Clanmates, Swallowpaw. That's a traitorous mindset.”

“He’s too soft,” Swallowpaw growled. “Someone has to show the Clan that and I seem to be the only one who realizes it.”

“Being able to care for yourself is a good thing, sure,” Smallhorizon said, padding by Swallowpaw to pick a few berries from the nearby juniper bush. “But relying on your Clanmates is not a weakness. Not every battle can be fought alone. Lizardpaw is strong enough to handle himself, alone or with friends.”

Swallowpaw glared at the medicine cat before he whipped around and stalked away, his fur bristling. He could feel Smallhorizon’s eyes following him as he slipped through the bushes. Hareheart trotted beside him, tail held high. Swallowpaw wondered if Smallhorizon could see the dead cat or not.

“You walk a path of blood and betrayal, Swallowpaw,” Smallhorizon called after him. “If you follow it, soon there will be nothing left of you but hatred. You will no longer be a cat, but a twisted shadow, just like those who hide from the stars.”

The medicine cat’s words sent a chill down his spine. Swallowpaw paused and looked back over his shoulder, but Smallhorizon was already gone, hidden by the leaves. Shuddering, Swallowpaw turned and hurried away, his tail flicking back and forth.

“Hey, Swallowpaw’s back!” Kestrelkit and Foggykit, who had been born nearly half a moon ago after their mother joined the Clan, bounded over to him as he returned to camp.

“Teach us a battle move!” Foggykit demanded, running circles around Swallowpaw. Swallowpaw’s whiskers twitched.

“Sorry, but you’re a little young to be learning something like that,” he said. 

“Go ahead and teach them something,” Hareheart murmured. “The earlier they learn, the better.

_ They’re just kits! _ Swallowpaw’s fur prickled uneasily. The kits were so tiny. One wrong move and he could kill them. Still, Hareheart was right. If the camp was ever attacked they needed to know something to defend themselves.

“Alright, but nothing advanced,” Swallowpaw said. “Raise your paw like this, extend your claws as far as they’ll go and then swipe. Just don’t use your claws on each other, okay? You’re just practicing.”

He demonstrated the move for them. It was a simple move; the front paw swipe. Most Clans taught it, he remembered learning that at the Gathering from the other apprentices. It was the first move most apprentices were taught. It wouldn’t hurt them as long as they didn’t use it on each other.

Foggykit let out a squeak as she fell over. The kits were still learning how to balance themselves correctly. Their attack was more of a quick step than a swipe. Kestrelkit let out a teasing purr and swiped at her with his paw.

“You’re such a clumsy badger!” he laughed. Foggykit huffed and got to her paws.

“You’re not going to take that from him, are you?” Swallowpaw’s whiskers twitched. “Rear up on your hind legs and then land on top of him. No claws.”

Foggykit nodded and tottered over to her brother. She shifted her weight, rearing up on her hind legs just long enough to whack him with her front paws.

“Hey!” Kestrelkit whined. “No fair!”

“When she does that, use your shoulder to knock her over,” Swallowpaw instructed. “She’ll be vulnerable, then and you can win easily.”

“Kestrelkit, Foggykit!” Stormsage, the kits’ mother, called as she trotted over. “Oh, hello Swallowpaw. Is training over already?”

“I got carried away again and accidentally clawed Lizardpaw,” Swallowpaw admitted. Stormsage’s eyes narrowed. She looked down at her kits who were still wrestling at her paws and let out a purr.

“Swallowpaw taught us some battle moves!” Foggykit squeaked as she noticed her mother. She pulled herself away from her brother. “Look, mama!” She raised her paw and swiped at the air again.

“You’re teaching them  _ battle moves _ !?” Stormsage hissed. “They’re too young!”

“I only taught them the front paw swipe.” Swallowpaw’s ears flicked back. “It’s the first move our mentors teach us. I only gave them tips while they were wrestling after that. They’re just playing, they would have figured this stuff out on their own eventually.”

Stormsage huffed and whipped around, guiding her kits back to the nursery with a paw, shooting a glare over her shoulder at Swallowpaw. Swallowpaw’s tail lashed and he headed to the apprentices' den.

“They’ll see eventually,” Hareheart whispered to him. The tom had merged into Swallowpaw’s shadow, claiming it was easier to follow him in daylight that way. “Don’t worry. Just bide your time and soon you’ll be their leader. Then they’ll respect you and won’t question you when you’re helping them.”


	5. Swallowpaw's Mistake Chapter 3

“I’m going to talk to Darkstar about you taking your assessment tomorrow.” Swallowpaw angled his ears towards Silverfox who was speaking to Lizardhop outside the den, just barely stopping his fur from bristling. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Lizardpaw murmured. “The Clan is still grieving for Stormsage and the kits.”

Stormsage and her kits, Foggykit and Kestrelkit, had vanished after leaving camp a few days ago. Stormsage had insisted it was fine, that she knew how to care for her kits. When they didn’t return by sunset, patrols were sent out but the queen and her kits were never found. Darkstar had even sent Silverfox to ask the rest of the Clans if they had seen them, but no cats had heard or seen anything on their side of the border. Eventually it was decided that the three had been killed by a predator or taken by a twoleg. Whatever happened, until they returned, they were now dead to the Clan. Three pieces of prey had been buried in their honor, as the Clan had no bodies to bury.

“I know,” Silverfox said softly. “That’s why I want to do it so soon. You’ve shown us nothing but promise, Lizardpaw. It will give the Clan something else to think about. I’m proud of you and I feel you’re ready to become a warrior, if Darkstar allows it.”

Swallowpaw dug his claws into the moss. He had asked Tigerroar about taking the assessment early as well, he knew it happened sometimes, that a cat became a warrior early, but had Tigerroar refused, saying that Swallowpaw still had moons of training ahead of him. Lizardpaw had been an apprentice a moon longer, but he still had three more moons of training ahead of him. Or, he was supposed to, anyway.

Silverfox was just being foolish, Swallowpaw decided. This was probably why kin couldn’t mentor kin. They went too easy on them, blinded by their bias. Aside from giving him Silverfox as his mentor, Darkstar had never shown any sign of favoring Lizardpaw. He never seemed to favor anyone actually, even his own brother. Maybe Darkstar would make Silverfox see some sense and tell him Lizardpaw wasn’t ready.

Swallowpaw woke, stretching his legs and looking around the starless forest around him. It had scared him at first, but it had become like a second home to him. He didn’t know it as well as the cats who lived there, but he knew the shadows well enough to where he wouldn’t get lost if he wandered. He had no reason to wander now, however. He was right where he needed to be.

“There you are,” a voice growled behind him. “I was getting tired of waiting.” Hareheart sat in front of him. His green eyes were glittering coldly, tail sweeping slowly back and forth.

“Sorry.” Swallowpaw dipped his head. “I was busy.”

“Yes, grieving for the queen and kits,” Hareheart scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Forget about them. They were soft-hearted and probably among the clawless cowards of the stars.”

Swallowpaw curled his lips back. He threw himself at the other cat, claws unsheathed. Hareheart let out a hiss and fell back as Swallowpaw slammed into him. He kicked at Swallowpaw, throwing the apprentice off. Swallowpaw rolled as he landed, just barely avoiding getting pounced on by the former WindClan warrior. 

He whipped around, claws gleaming in the low light as he tore open a wound on Hareheart’s flank. Hareheart let out a yowl of pain and fury, retaliating by clamping his jaws on one of Swallowpaw’s ears and ripping the tip off it.

Swallowpaw gasped as he fell, screeching as he felt Hareheart’s claws dig into his stomach. He kicked, striking the warrior in the throat with one back paw and the chest with the other and knocking the breath out of him before rolling onto his paws, stumbling from the pain and breathing hard.

“Better than last time,” Hareheart grumbled, smoothing his pelt with his tongue. “Next time keep your claws unsheathed when you kick.”

“That could kill someone,” Swallowpaw said, his ears flattening. He jerked back as Hareheart slashed his nose and then grabbed him by the neck, slamming him down into the mud.

“That’s the point, rabbit-brain!” Hareheart spat. “If you kill your enemies, they’ll never threaten you or your Clan again!”

“Warriors don’t need to kill to-” Swallowpaw broke off with a choke as Hareheart bit down harder, fangs threatening to break the skin of his neck.

“Go easy on the poor thing,” a smooth voice purred above them. “After all, he just lost three Clanmates.”

Hareheart let go of Swallowpaw and glowered up at the beautiful she-cat resting above them on a branch. “Honeytongue,” he hissed. “Why are you here? Don’t you have some other apprentice to be training?”

“Not yet,” Honeytongue purred. “I will soon, though. There’s a certain kit the stars are whispering about that I’ve got my eye on. So this is little Swallowpaw? Poor thing. The Clan has forgotten about him in favor of a rogue when the only apprentice they need is right here.”

“Who are you?” Swallowpaw coughed as he sat up. The cat’s words sounded sweet, but there was a cruel gleam in her eyes, as though she was enjoying watching him get thrown around like a piece of prey. He wasn’t sure if he should trust this particular cat or not. Hareheart was helping to make him stronger, the best warrior ThunderClan had seen since the war, but Swallowflight knew that some cats within the Dark Forest loved to watch and make the Clans suffer.

“Oh, just another lost soul seeking to help the Clans,” Honeytongue purred. “Good luck with your training, Swallowpaw. I have places to be.” She disappeared into the trees, hopping from one branch to the next as though she were still running on the forest floor.

“Get up.” Hareheart jabbed Swallowflight in the side with a paw, knocking him over again. “And this time, use your claws.”


	6. Swallowpaw's Mistake Chapter 4

Swallowpaw limped back to camp, a squirrel in his jaws. He had learned some time ago not to visit the Dark Forest while he was staying in camp. The last time it had happened, Lizardpaw had immediately rushed to the medicine cat and gotten Smallhorizon before Swallowpaw had even gotten a chance to wake up, even though Pouncepaw tried to tell him it was just a nightmare. Swallowpaw was able to lie and say it was just a thorn in his nest, or that he clawed himself by accident in his sleep, but he knew that explanation wouldn’t work forever. So instead, he visited only when he could find the chance to sneak out, returning to camp hoping that either the Clan didn’t notice, or having the comfort that he could blame every new scar or injury on some freak accident instead.

“Swallowpaw!” Tigerroar hissed as he spotted him. He and Hazelpaw were guarding the camp that night. “What in StarClan’s name happened to you!?”

Swallowpaw ducked his head. “I ran into a rogue that was trying to steal our prey,” he said. “I chased him off and took the prey back.”

“You should have gotten help!” Tigerroar snapped. Swallowpaw’s ears flattened. Though it was a lie, Tigerroar had no way of knowing that. For all he knew, Swallowpaw had been telling the truth. Not only that, but he had just heard that Swallowpaw chased off an intruder  _ and _ brought back prey in just a single night. How could he be so upset over it?

“What was I supposed to do, let the rogue escape with stolen prey?” Swallowpaw hissed. “He would have gotten away if I hadn’t stopped him and we would have lost valuable prey during leaf-fall!”

Before Tigerroar could argue, Hazelpaw stepped forward and rested his tail on his shoulder for a brief moment before turning to Swallowpaw. “Look,” he said gently. “I know it’s hard for you after losing Stormsage and the kits, it’s been hard on all of us, but you can’t throw yourself into battle like that. You may have won this time, but rogues don’t follow the code like we do. They won’t hesitate to kill.”

“Neither will I,” Swallowpaw spat, shoving his way past the warriors and over to the fresh-kill pile to set the squirrel down. Lizardpaw was up, grooming himself just outside the apprentices’ den. He had turned to watch Swallowpaw, looking troubled. Swallowpaw just glared at him, daring him to say something. Lizardpaw got up and padded past him, towards Silverfox who was emerging from the warriors’ den. Silverfox purred at his adopted son, his fluffy tail held high.

“Ready for your assessment?” he asked. As Lizardpaw nodded he gestured to the tunnel through the thorn barrier that led outside of camp. “Then go on ahead! Remember, I’ll be right behind you, keeping hidden and watching you.”

“I know,” Lizardpaw said, then added with a purr, “Though I fail to see how you could ever keep hidden with that bright pelt of yours, especially since you always seem to get it caught in every bramble patch we go through.”

The apprentice darted out of the way and out of camp as his mentor swiped playfully at him with a big, white paw, shouting after him as Lizardpaw’s striped tail vanished through the thorns.

“There are times I question allowing you to adopt that kit,” Darkstar grunted as he stepped down off the Highledge. “This is one of those times. I swear that cat’s taking after you too much. He is right, though. Your pelt’s too thick. I was hoping it would thin out in your old age, but I guess not.”

“The day my pelt thins out is the day you go bald!” Silverfox shot back, turning away. “And my pelt is not too thick, nor does it get caught in any brambles!”

He pushed his way through the tunnel. Swallowpaw was certain he could spot a tuft of silver fur among the thorns, though he said nothing. He paused as he noticed Darkstar watching him.

Darkstar was old and looked as frail as a starving mouse. He kept to himself, usually laying in his den or just below the Highledge. The only cats he ever seemed to interact with on his own were Silverfox and Smallhorizon. He was one of the oldest cats at the lake next Seedstar, RiverClan's leader. Despite his age, Darkstar always unnerved Swallowpaw. Swallowpaw had grown up hearing stories of how strong Darkstar was. He was the first leader to gain nine lives since the Great War, and even the cats from other Clans respected and feared him. Some claimed he was a greater leader than even Havenstar, the first real leader of ThunderClan since the war.

“Watch yourself, ‘paw,” he said. “You don’t fool me with those claims of rogues you’ve been telling. You’re playing a dangerous game with those mud spattered traitors. They’ll chew you up and spit you out like a pack of hounds if you’re not careful.”

Swallowpaw’s pelt prickled. How did Darkstar know? The leader didn’t seem intent on explaining himself, however. He left the conversation there and padded to the pile, sniffing at the squirrel.

“Good catch. Surprised any prey was even out at that time of the night.” He picked it up and carried it to the nursery, where the newest member of ThunderClan, a rogue queen named Plumwing, had moved in.


End file.
